


Skin Trade

by netweight



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/F, Fix-It, Parallel Universes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-19
Updated: 2020-09-19
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:15:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26548108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/netweight/pseuds/netweight
Summary: Rock on, gold dust woman. Rock on, ancient queen.
Relationships: Ruby/Bela Talbot
Comments: 6
Kudos: 5
Collections: Summer Spinoff





	Skin Trade

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Summer Spinoff fest, for the prompt, "Bela/Ruby – rolling in money".
> 
> Set in an alternate version of seasons 3 and 4. I had to mess with the timeline to make this work. But this is a paralell universe, so it's all good. Assume events took place in a slightly different order.

No matter the Universe, two things hold true, in Ruby's experience. Everyone breaks. And everything has a price. Flip it over and it works too. So maybe it's just one truth, in the end.

Maybe she is being overly literal, stretched over the bed covered in sterling, the bright orange of the hundred pound bills clashing with the soft, tasteful colors of Bela's childhood room, all this buying and selling one more defiling for the walls of the castle to bear witness, the kind that likely pales in face of the centuries of history of this place. Certainly one that barely adds to Ruby's own tally.

"You're cheerful," Bela says from the doorway, standing stiffly just at the threshold.

"No reason not to," Ruby counters.

Being upside is fucking wonderful. Being upside and giving everyone else the finger? Infinitely more so. None of that true believer shit here. Screw everybody else, Ruby has plans of her own.

"Come here," she beckons, leaning back on her elbows and patting the bed beside her.

Bela clenches so visibly, Ruby half expects the tumbler of whiskey she's holding to shatter. It would be a waste of good whiskey. And an even greater one of Bela's long fingered hand, the taunt of red blood too temporary a pleasure. Nothing like the wealth of fear welling up inside Bela. Beautiful.

"Scared?" Ruby asks, with just the right amount of sacharin, which isn't ever much, her being what she is.

And there it is. Bela's eyes turn to flint, the simmering core of molten terror sharpening to a switchblade, the anger at the injustice of it all, the decade long search for a way out of her deal with the devil, the trading down of indignities and the thousand little chips at the soul screaming inside, _I'm good, I'm good, I don't deserve this, please, sweet merciful God, help me._

Ain't free will a bitch.

She steps into the room, slow and straight. Places the drink on the vanity with precise movements, not even the flicker of a tremble. Ruby knows it for the con that it is, rather than genuine commitment, true belief in the possibility of reprieve. But still, there's steel inside. She stops just shy of Ruby's reach and opens her hands in a short, sharp gesture, tilting her head, jaw tight in an unspoken, _So?_

Ain't free will grand.

Ruby darts forward with the speed of a snake, snatches her by an arm and tumbles her down beneath her on the bed. The bills rustle very faintly, crisp and new.

"This... was never mentioned as part of our arrangement," Bela says, lying very still, hands raised not quite as fists, immobile as Ruby's leg slots between her own.

Ruby hums, fanning Bella's hair out. "No? 'All of your riches and all of your skills'? Seems pretty included to me. Cheap for a soul, even."

"We're literally rolling in money. There's nothing cheap about this," Bela replies tartly.

"What, this?" Ruby picks up one of the notes and rubs it between thumb and index, before flicking it away dismissively. "This is just paper."

Bela huffs in annoyance.

"No? Tell me, did all this money protect you?" She traces a finger down Bella's chest, in a straight line over the skin exposed at the collar, down, down. She looks up with the flash of white teeth, pitch black eyes. "Do you feel safer?"

Bela pales, the jaws of Hell still so close. 

"Do you feel we live in the best of all possible worlds? That the arc of history bends towards justice?" Ruby says, sarcasm heavy on her tongue, mouth following the path of her hand. She looks up again, says, "Do you think God cares?"

Bela's eyes, Bela's mouth turn hard.

Ruby smiles. "That's right, God doesn't give a crap. Not him, not all of his angels and saints, not any deity man has ever chose to adore." She pulls Bela's top loose, bundles it up, unbuckles the belt with rough gestures and parts the jeans at the zipper, exposing Bela's flat stomach. She dips her head, runs the tip of her nose over the skin. Goosebumps follow, the muscles beneath shivering.

She sits back, grabs the denim at Bela's hips and tugs. There's the sound of seams tearing, the reminder of unnatural strength. The bills scatter around them. Ruby curls her hand around one ankle, the skin warm and thin there, the joint delicate. Humans are so fragile.

She slides her hands along the inner side of Bela's thighs. The pace of Bela's breath quickens, cheeks flushing pink. Ruby's voice is low, intimate, like a long-time lover when she says, "The fabric of the world is cracking open and I will tell you a secret: God is the bored, petulant child breaking all his toys."

Bela's panties are baby blue cotton. Such an incongruous choice. Such a telling sign. Ruby mouths at the fabric, breath hot and humid. This close, she can smell the sea and salt scent. "This is the one true divinity left."

"Fuck," Bela groans, bites her lower lip. 

Ruby comes up, face level with Bela's in a swift movement. Her right hand slips inside Bela's panties, middle finger unerringly finding the damp entrance. She rubs in between the folds, spreading the gathering wetness, back and forth, back and forth, curling her fingers at the end of each passing to dip inside.

"Fuck, come on," Bela says, voice broken, eyes feverish and bright, going half-mast, chin coming up, head thrown back, long neck bared, when Ruby finally enters her, two, three fingers, the heel of her hand grinding her clit.

"Yeah, that's right," Ruby says, lips hovering over Bela's mouth," you and me, you and me are going to save this world."

Bela's arms come up around her, grabbing tightly, heels crossing behind Ruby's back as they rock together.

"This is our deal," Ruby says before kissing her, swallowing Bela's sob as she spasms around her fingers, gripping so hard Ruby feels them bruising.

Bela's arms come down, spread across the bed. She stays like that, eyes closed, breath slowing down. Unwinding.

When she suddenly rolls them over, Ruby does not expect it. Nor her own knife pressed to her throat. The sneaky little thief.

"You mean it?" Bela asks.

"Cross my heart and hope to die," she says, grinning, as much at Bela's half naked state as at her choice of partner for this venture. She has chosen well. Bela's irritated stare and the knife nicking the skin at her neck prove it. "Yes, I mean it. We are going to pull off the biggest heist in history. Steal the world and hide it away where no one can find it. No more Heaven, no more Hell. Sounds good?"

"But how?" Bela asks, sounding disarmed, and so frightfully young. Ruby doesn't remember being that young. Between Earth and the Pit, she doesn't even know for how many centuries she has existed. All that time, like grains of sand in a desert.

She pushes away the knife and seats up, loops her arms around the small of Bela's back. "I may know of a trinket that will do the trick." 

Anael was far too trusting. But then her kind often are, and no matter how high the Fall, no amount of rolling around in the muck can tarnish their belief in their superiority, their preordained worldview. Faith's a bitch, baby.

Bela's fine with mistrust, though. "What makes you think we won't be found out?"

Ruby almost laughs. "Honey, no one is paying attention to us. We're just side characters in this story."

"So what is all this money for?""

To test her, to make a point. To see if Bela would pay and have the knowledge sink in that she would. In coin and skin, too. Ruby doesn't say any of it. Settles on levity instead, "Well, if we're going to save the world, might as well do it in style."

There, not a mercy, but a trade-off. Ruby doesn't do mercy. 

Bela is going to protest, mad again, but Ruby is faster, is expecting it, Bela's fighting spirit worlds more useful, more satisfying than her humiliation. More enticing. She covers Bela's red mouth, waits. Her fingers linger across Bela's fair skin. What a pity would have been to have all this burned away.

It won't happen here. Fuck Azazel, and Lilith, and Lucifer, and their grand master plan. Fuck God himself too. She will save everyone and _herself_ in the process. This time, she'll set her own price tag. It's all or nothing and she isn't planning on being stuck with the nothing.

"We're taking it back. We're taking it all back," she promises.

She cradles Bela's nape, angles her head down. She binds herself to this woman and to this path, and she seals this deal with a kiss.


End file.
